A Daughter for Sherlock
by Totopup
Summary: "You have a daughter! How come you never told me this?"  I spoke up. "He doesn't like anyone to know because i'm cleverer than him."
1. In Which Many Characters Meet

I am floating. I'm not breathing, living. Just floating. Then suddenly I'm falling, falling, into a void of nothingness, but suddenly I hear a voice. A deep booming voice, yelling my name...

"Samantha. Samantha! _SAMANTHA!_"

My eyes snapped open. 14 angry eyes stared at me, the 14th belonging to my teacher.

"Who do you think you are, falling asleep in class! I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour, and this is the second time you've done it this week! Go straight to the head teachers office now. You better be there, I'll be checking!" He'd had yelled at me a dozen times before, but this time he seemed angrier than usual. I nearly tripped over my chair in my haste to get out, grabbing my bag as I went.

The head's office was over the other side of school, and the cold December air crept through my jacket as I jogged across the grounds. I hated my school. All the posh kids walking around, the teachers expecting you to do exactly as you're told. All the school meals had that posh look about them, and you got like two specks of food on the plate. This school is meant to be a posh private school. It's poisonous.

As I got nearer the reception, I broke into a run, feeling the cold air rushing against my face. I was nearly at the reception when suddenly-

"Yes I know Sherlock, but how-whoa! What?"

I looked up and saw two men. One had greying hair, and looking a bit like a teddy bear. The other one was my father.

"Dad!" I exclaimed. "Who's this? Another assistant?"

Sherlock glanced at his companion, then said: "This is Doctor John Watson. John, this is my daughter, Samantha."

"You have a daughter? How come you never told me this?" John looked around, waiting for someone to explain.

I decided to speak up.

"Da- sorry, Sherlock doesn't like anyone to know because I'm meant to be cleverer than him. He can only do that thing with the deduction thingy but with me it's as if I can read peoples minds. I can't of course, I just notice more than he does, like, I know that you got here by taxi, and that under that jumper you're wearing a green t-shirt with deep blue stripes on it, and that Sherlock only came here at this time because he hoped I would be in class, but he didn't know that I got in trouble so yeah, and judging by the length of the bags under your eyes you went to bed at..." here I stopped for a few seconds, then exclaimed: "2:00. And then you couldn't sleep so you got a glass of water and fell asleep at 4:00. Sherlock played the violin from 10 till midnight two nights ago, and for lunch you had a cheese and onion omelette. And that's only half of what I can do."

John looked slightly confused.

"How can she know that? She's eleven years old! Sherlock, is she really cleverer than you? I mean, your meant to be the world's cleverest person or something, and-"

Sherlock cut him off.

"Have you forgotten my brother, Mycroft? Or Moreyati? Both of them are as clever as me, if not cleverer. Samantha merely has a different way of portraying her... cleverness. She is, after all, a pacifist."

John looked even more confused. "How did she get in trouble then?"

I answered. "I fell asleep in class. And can you stop talking as if I'm not there? It's really irritating."

"Ok," he said in a very confused voice. He frowned."How come Sherlock shares a flat with me? Shouldn't he be looking after you or something?"

"She insists that she looks after herself," Sherlock explained. "I put money in her bank account, while she lives a free life on her own."

John had more questions. "What about her mother? Where's she?"

I didn't answer, because let's face it, I frankly didn't know.

AN: Sorry I turned samantha into a mary sue but this is my first proper story so please give some advice in the comments. Thanx


	2. In Which Much Is Investigated

"Gotta run!" I said, and both of them looked bemused.

"You know, head's office?" I prompted. Their expressions changed into ones of realisation.

"Oh well, we've got to go too, so... Bye." Smiled John, and he and Sherlock walked off, in the direction of the PE block. I sprinted the rest of the way, realising I was going to be late.

"What's this? Fell asleep in class again? They'll chuck you out this time, mark my words!" Chandra Poole was the receptionist, and I'll tell you straight-she just isn't a very nice person. She was short and stodgy, and they only kept her because no-one else wanted the job.

"Mr Parson is waiting for you. Just knock before you go in." She sneered at me as I pushed open the door leading to the corridor of offices. I knew exactly what Mr Parson would say when I sat down on the faded cloth seat of one of his century old wooden chairs. _Now, Samantha, we all know how you're just too clever for this school_ (he would chuckle at his own joke) _but you must at least try to stop this awful behaviour. I am afraid falling asleep in the class room during a lesson is in-tolerable! You must understand that... blah, blah...waffle, waffle...lecture, lecture..._

I knocked on the door before I entered. Nothing had changed. The same moose head hanging on a plaque on the wall, the massive child made anti-bullying poster beside it, the bright pink waste paper bin (a gift from his wife), and his pride and honour, the government issued, shiny bronze plaque sitting on his desk bearing the words:

_**Well done for being a healthy school!**_

_**You have achieved bronze level health!**_

_**Keep up the five a day! **_

Mr Parson sat at his desk, wearing a tight fitting two piece suit. He was a thin man, wearing glasses and sipping from a cup of steaming tea.

"Sit down." He said, using his _I mean business _voice. I sat down in the chair opposite his desk.

"This is the 5th time you've been sent to my office. Nothing-" He was interrupted by the phone ringing.

"Hello, Mr Parson here." He said in the polite voice people always use when they answer the phone to someone they don't know. His face slowly got more horrified as the person on the other side spoke.

"I'll be there right away! No, no, I'm not busy... collapsed you say? My oh my, whatever next! First that bout of that strange infection-which I swear wasn't swine flu-now people collapsing in the classroom! Yes, yes...thank you for informing me. Yes...ok. Bye." He frowned as he set the phone down.

"I am afraid our little meeting will have to be postponed. There is an urgent matter on the other side of school which I must attend. It's nearly afternoon break, so if you'd like to make your way back to your classroom..." He held the door out for me to leave.

"But sir-" I protested, only to be silenced by his hand held up against my face.

"Back to your classroom." He ushered me out, only to follow me down the corridor. When I passed the reception, Chandra sneered at me again.

When we got outside, Mr Parson started walking in the opposite direction to my classroom. I decided to follow him.

He stepped inside the Y8 block, and was led along to classroom 8c. Just outside the door, there was a small, wooden cupboard, just big enough for me to slip into. I crammed myself in, having to bend back my ankle to be able to fit. I left the door open a crack, just enough for me to see out of.

Mr Parson was looking on at the scene with disgust. He moved out of the classroom for some air.

"What happened? I mean, was he feeling sick or did he just fall unconscious?" asked one of the serious faced nurses.

"No, he was writing away like hell, but then he had just slumped down... nothing was wrong he was fine beforehand!" Said a white faced teacher, who collapsed into a chair. Everyone was silent for a second.

"Ok. We'll have to take him up to the hospital for a full check up, then we'll call you and let you know how he's doing. Have you informed his parents?" asked the nurse, a false 'be happy!' smile on her lips.

"Yes, they know. They are probably on their way to the hospital now. Thank you." the white faced Y8 teacher smiled then got up and walked towards the staff room. The paramedics carried the unconscious boy out to the ambulance. The nurse followed them.

I crept out of the cupboard, looking around quickly to check no-one had lingered. I laughed under my breath.

"What fools they are! Can't even recognise what was wrong. I'll tell you what's wrong. There-" I stopped suddenly, realising I was talking to myself. ''Don't do that!'' I thought. ''It's creepy. Anyway, you've just got to look around...'' Pen+floor. Irrelevant. Dropped when fell. Blood+chair leg. Banged head when fell. Dart+floor. Irr- what? Why is there a stun dart on the floor? He couldn't have been stunned, there is nowhere for anyone to shoot from. Then why is it there?

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening behind me. It was the white-faced teacher.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in lessons? This is a scene of..." She couldn't find the word so she said "pain."

I slipped the dart into my pocket before standing up.

"Sorry Miss, I was just looking to see if I left my jumper in here. It's not here. I'll just leave." it was a lousy excuse, and I worded it badly, but she just eyed me suspiciously as I walked out the door.

I had to find dad.

**AN: Thank you for reading my story. Hope you enjoy it. This is where it gets interesting... Please review!**


	3. In Which Someone Screams

As soon as I was out of sight, I sprinted towards the PE block. Hopefully John and dad were still there.

As I rounded a sharp corner, I didn't notice a solitary figure standing outside the boy's toilets. That is until I bump into him. Why do I keep bumping into people?

"Watch where you're going young- hang on a minute! Samantha, what are you doing out here? I told you to go back to your classroom!" Mr Parson exclaimed.

"I... needed the toilet." I knew that if he knew anything about this school he would realise that my classroom was on the other side of school, and there was a toilet much closer to it than this one. Thankfully, Mr Parson wasn't the sort of person to know people's names and where things are, so he just dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

"Off you go then. Be quick though, we don't want you missing too much lesson time."

I jogged off towards the girls toilet. I could easily just slip out of the other exit inside the loos, then walk across the square to the PE block.

I darted inside the toilets, only to slip out the other side and walk straight into John Watson. _Again._

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in the headteachers office or something..." He frowned.

"It's obvious, isn't it? She came looking for us. We went to the PE block, and she followed us here. Not straight away of course, but she followed us alright." Sherlock said, stepping out from one of the many doors leading to different places in the school.

"Yes, I came to find you-and I'm so glad you're here-because someone in 8c collapsed, and I went to the scene of the..." I couldn't think of a word so I copied the teacher. "Pain, and I found something interesting and I'd like you to see it." I pulled out the dart and handed it to Sherlock.

"This didn't hit anyone. This hit the desk the boy was sitting at. But why would someone fire a very advanced and expensive dart at a desk?" Sherlock looked at me, waiting for an answer.

"No-one fired it. There was nowhere that you could have fired it without being seen. Unless it was an automated system or something, this stun dart wasn't fired."

"Show me."

"Over here!" yelled Sherlock, staring at something on the wall. Me and John hurried over. "What? I can't see anything." I looked at the wall. It just looked like a normal wall.

"There." Sherlock pointed to a very small crack in the wall.

"And if you look carefully..." me and John both squinted at it, "you will see a small plastic machine inside. That's what fired the dart. It was quite easy to spot actually."

"Yeah well, you had longer to look than me." I grimaced.

"So, what do we do know?" asked John, looking at us both in turn.

"We wait." Answered Sherlock. Someone screamed.


	4. In Which Something Is Found

"What was that?" exclaimed John. Sherlock answered.

"I kinda hoped it was a nice juicy murder, but it's just the boys mum. She isn't happy."

I unlocked my flat door, pushing it open, and stepping inside. The flat was cold, despite the reds and blues that I'd coordinated. Warm colours. That was why I liked them.

I walked into the kitchen, a warm cup of cocoa on my mind. As I put the kettle on, my mind wandered to the unconscious kid at school, and the strange little dart, so tiny you could hardly see it. Then my mind decided to wander some more until I found myself thinking about John and Sherlock. Dad. Sherlock. Dad? Sherlock? Could I call him dad? How about "Uncle Sherlock?" -Did he even deserve that title? I didn't even live with him. And I've no idea what happened to my mother. "Mum" seemed like such a strange word to me.

The telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Oh, yeah, hi. It's Bryony."

"Hi Bryony." I said, hearing the kettle reach boiling point in the background.

"I was just quickly ringing to ask if you wanted to come over later. Or now. -Whichever you prefer, really." She laughed.

"Oh yeah. That's cool. Can I come over later? I'm kinda busy right now." _Lie._ Unless a cup of cocoa counts as "busy". I just didn't fancy leaving my flat for a while.

"Right, OK. Can you come around six?"

"Six is fine." I smiled.

"We're having pizza."

"Yum."

She laughed. "See you then."

"See you!" I hung up, and went back through to the kitchen, wondering why Bryony had suddenly decided to invite me round. She wasn't _that_ good a friend. I didn't really have any proper friends I guess, just sort of people who I talked to. I would never tell them about my dad, or that I lived alone. I said I lived with my uncle if I was forced to mention my house.

I poured the hot water into my mug of powdery cocoa and stirred. Two hours until I had to leave.

"Which way?" John asked, looking down the corridor. Sherlock and John had been looking around the school for over an hour. They didn't even know what they were looking for, although John thought Sherlock might have an idea.

"Left. I think we should check out those store cupboards. Nice hiding places for something." Sherlock answered, taking a left turn and heading down the corridor. John followed.

"What about the headmaster's study? We haven't looked there yet." John looked at Sherlock.

"John, I think you have forgotten the reason for which we came to this school in the first place. Those stock cupboards could be the goldmine for the missing Garnets!" He saw the look on John face. "Fine, we'll check the headmaster's study _first_."

He pushed open the door. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing unusual was in there, unless you count the bright pink waste paper bin (in a man's office) as unusual.

"See, nothing here. Now we go and see those stock cupboards." Sherlock walked out the door, with John following in his wake.

The stock cupboards were like walk-in wardrobes, except there were shelves instead of clothes racks. The shelves were piled high with boxes, all cardboard brown ones. All of them were empty.

"Why is the stock cupboard filled with empty boxes?" asked John, looking confused.

"They've been used. For holding something. Like..." He sniffed one of the boxes. "Smells like... Chicken? Why does it smell like chicken? They can't have been keeping chicken in here, it's nowhere near the kitchen. So why does it smell like chicken?" Sherlock looked puzzled.

"Beats me." sighed John. "Come on, it's 10:00. Can we go back now?" Sherlock sighed and turned towards the door.

I rang the doorbell. Bryony answered it, ushering me in. She led me up to her bedroom on the top floor. We sat down on her bed.

"Is it OK if we have pepperoni pizza? Oh, and chips of course." She looked at me.

"Sure. Cool. So, what are we gonna do? Do you have owl city's new album?"

Five hours later I slumped down on the sofa in my bedroom. That pizza was good! I guess Bryony isn't too bad. She even lent me Owl City- Ocean Eyes!

I checked my mobile. _**3 missed messages. From: Dad, Dad, and Lauryn.**_ What did Lauryn want? She was my counsellor. I don't even know why I have a counsellor. Probably something to do with the fact that I live on my own. I can't believe they haven't put me in a care home yet!

I decided to ring Sherlock, and to ignore Lauryn.

"Hello. Sherlock Holmes, at your service."

"Hi. Sherlock, it's Sam. You called earlier."

"Oh, yeah. I need you to meet me at the school gates tomorrow at 9:00. If I'm late, wait for me. John and I found something very fishy at your school, but it's not a matter to discuss over the phone. See you tomorrow." he said, then hung up.

''Well, that was a nice little chat.'' I thought as I went up to my bedroom.

As I got into bed, my phone bleeped. _**Lauryn-calling.**_ Uh. Why can't she leave me alone? I answered the phone anyway.

"Hi." I tried to make a good impression.

"Sam, I need to ask you a quick question. Have you been in contact with your dad?" I didn't know whether to lie or not.

"Why?"

"Because the whole reason you live alone is that we believe your dad is dangerous. Please answer my question truthfully. Have you been in contact with your dad?" Oh yeah. I had forgot about the lie we had told the authorities when they came looking. I still don't know why they don't dump me in a children's home.

"No. Why d'you ask?" I had decided to lie, mainly because I would have to go live with someone else if I said yes. I had never been a very people person.

Lauryn sighed with relief. "That's really good, because CCTV has seen him walking about in your area, so we're all glad that you're OK. If he does come knocking, just call me, yeah? Gotta go now. Bye." She hung up. ''Another nice little chat.'' I thought in my head as I pulled the covers up over my shoulders.

**AN: Thanx for reading my story! I'm going away for a few weeks tomorrow, so don't go anywhere. Promise more chapters soon! xxx**


	5. In Which Something Is Realised

"So what is it?" I asked, The cold December air freezing me. Sherlock stood in front of me, John behind him.

"We found some odd things in the stock cupboard. It's best if I show you."

"What about my lessons? Not that I want to go to them, it's just that they're gonna notice if I'm gone." I looked at Sherlock.

"No worries. I'll sent a letter to the office saying you were off sick. You can have the rest of the day off, as long as no-one notices you walking around." he smiled, then started walking towards the office.

"J-just saying, if I walk through the reception and then an hour later there's a message saying I'm off sick, someone's gonna notice something." he stopped walking and turned around to look at me.

"You seriously think I haven't thought that through? There's a back entrance, we're going through there." he led me and John round the back of the offices and reception, and through a big heavy fire exit.

"Doesn't this have an alarm or something?" I asked, as Sherlock heaved open the door.

"Already disabled it." he said, walking through the door into a long corridor. He pushed open the second door to the right and stepped inside, we followed him.

"Smell the boxes." he said. I looked at him quizzically, but sniffed the boxes anyway.

"Smells like chicken." I said, inspecting the empty boxes. "They had chicken for school dinners yesterday. I never have school dinners though. You get hardly anything." Sherlock gave me a look that clearly said 'stop rambling and give me your opinion!'.

"Well-" I stopped. School dinners... the boy...at lunch he had school dinners...the suspicious boxes...

"Sherlock! What if it's the school dinners? What if someone had been putting something in the school dinners?" Sherlock looked at me as if I was mad.

"School dinners? What sick person would go around making innocent children go unconscious? Unless..." he shook his head.

"Unless what? Go on." I prompted.

"Unless they were about to take it to the next level..."

Dingalingalingalingalingaling! The bell went for lunch. I hurried out of the classroom, heading for the canteen. I had specially ordered school dinners today for a test Sherlock wanted to do.

I sat down at one of the solitary tables near the back, picking up my knife and fork and pretending to eat. After about five minutes, I slid my bag from under the table and pulled out the small plastic container. It was airtight, so the food would not go off.

Looking around and making sure no-one was watching me, I put one piece of pizza in the box and a couple of chips. Then I quickly put the lid on and dropped it in my bag. No-one had seen me.

I dropped my plate off and walked onto the play-ground.

"Hey, Samantha!" It was Bryony, asking if I wanted to play. "Want to play football?" She asked.

"Sure. I'm goaly!" I yelled, before jogging after them. I had no idea that that saved my life.


	6. In Which A New Character Is Introduced

I rang the doorbell of 221b Baker Street. Mrs Hudson answered.

"Ah, the mysterious Samantha! Sherlock is waiting for you." she smiled and led me down a corridor and up some stairs.

"Just through the door then dear." Mrs Hudson said. I opened the door and saw Sherlock sitting in a green armchair.

"You came." he said as I shut the door.

"Well what did you expect? That I'd just ditch you in the middle of an important investigation?" I sighed. "So what is it?"

"We've had an old friend of mine- a nutritionist- to test the food you got from the canteen. The results, I have to say, are very interesting." As if on cue, a pretty blond girl walked into the room, wearing a white lab coat and with goggles on her forehead.

"Hi. I'm Chloe. It turns out that the food your school has been serving has been laced with some sort of poison. I'm not sure what sort of poison it is yet, but I'm trying to find out. Well, I better be going now. Bye!" she left.

"Well that was brief." I said. Sherlock smiled at me humourlessly.

"You better be going then." he stared at me for a while, then I turned and stepped outside. We were finally getting somewhere! I just hope Chloe can find out what the poison is. I hope it's not going to kill anybody. What if it kills Bryony? She was really nice to me! And I _really _hope there's not one of those massive fight scenes like in the movies where everyone gets hurt (but the bad guy does die...).


	7. In Which She Catches A Taxi

The next day at school, I realised that all the people who have school dinners are eating poisoned food. I had a sudden urge stop them all eating their dinners. People tempting fate, right in front of my eyes. But I can't. No one would believe me, and even if they did it would be too late.

Bryony walked up to me.

"Hey. Can you, um, do me a favour?" she asked me nervously.

"Sure, but it depends on what it is."I replied, standing up.

"Well, I accidentally left my memory stick for it at home. Can I use yours instead?" She looked at me in a way even I couldn't understand.

"Sorry, I only have one memory stick for me. I'm sure Mr Beckson will either lend you one or forgive you. Maybe you should ask someone else?" her face fell.

"Oh, ok. I'll go ask Tom." She walked away. I didn't know who Tom was, but I was almost certain that he wouldn't have a spare memory stick either. Then I thought of something.

"Hey Bryony! Bryony! I have an idea! Why don't you ask Miss Clark?" Bryony turned around, doubt etched on every line in her face.

"She won't give me a memory stick! I'd rather get in trouble with Mr Beckson than go see her. I can't." She said. Miss Clark was the head of RS. She only taught sixth formers from other schools. The thing is that if you forgot something major (like a memory stick with all your work on) or forgot something (like a memory stick you've been given a last warning on because you keep forgetting it) then she has a knack for finding it or getting you a replacement. The only _problem_ is that she sometimes blows up if you catch her at an unexpected time. Stuff like "_Did you think _I_ would find it for you you little rat! Go find it yourself if you're so worried. I can't be bothered! Get out, you little toad!" _Yes, it can be a bit extreme.

"Ok, it was just an idea." I said innocently. She walked off, no doubt looking for more people who might have a memory stick she can borrow.

My mobile began to bleep. The text said:

_Get over 2 my house now. BIG EMERGENCY_

_very important u get out of school, don't_

_bring anyone with u, and dont let the _

_teachers c u. SH_

I frowned. What could be so important that Sherlock wanted me to bunk off school for? He usually didn't like me playing up, bunking off and stuff. This must be really important.

I finished my lunch in a hurry, and walked quickly out of the canteen. My instinct told me to run, but I kept to a steady pace in case it would look suspicious.

I took a left at the entrance to the C-block, and carried on round the back. This way I wouldn't have to walk through the front of the school and perhaps get spotted by a nosy teacher, or get held up by some of my non-existent friends. I walked calmly through the school gates, fingers crossed inside my pockets. No one looked out of the window, the receptionist kept her head down. And most fortunately no one wanted to go to the music block, which was around the front of the school.

I quickly took my jumper off and stuffed inside my bag. All I had was some PE tracksuit bottoms from PE earlier but they would have to do in case someone recognised the school skirt that I had to wear. I got changed in some public toilets.

Now the problem is how to get to Sherlock's house? It was too far to walk, but there might be a bus I don't know about.

I approached the bus stop, looking at the bus timetable. The only bus that went anywhere near Baker Street came in 3 hours, when school ended. There would have been no point bunking off if I couldn't get back till home time.

Then it hit me. I could get a taxi! I would have to be careful not to let the driver realise I was meant to be in school, but that would be easy. My phone bleeped again.

_Hurry up! U need 2 get here_

_now. VERY IMPORTANT. Wats _

_taking u so long? SH_

He was getting impatient. I sent a text back saying to wait and that I was getting a taxi so I'll be there as soon as I could.

A taxi whizzed by, and I held my arm up. It ignored me. Another one came along, but this time it stopped. I got inside, an excuse for not being in school already in my head.

"Shouldn't you be in school little miss?" The driver asked as he pulled away from the curb.

"Oh, it's an inset day. I'm meeting my mum in town so we can go shopping." I said. "Oh, I go to a private school." I added as an afterthought. It was obvious that all the public schools weren't having an inset day, so going to a private school seemed a good excuse.

"So where are you goin' again?" The cabbie asked.

"Baker street." I answered, taking out my phone. Sherlock had texted me again.

_Where r u? This is getting_

_ridiculous. GET OVER_

_HERE NOW! SH_

He wasn't just impatient- he was getting angry. Now that's something I thought I'd never see.

About half a hour later, the cabbie pulled up against the curb outside 221b baker street. I handed him the money and got out. He drove off.

I rang the doorbell, nervously twiddling my thumbs.

"Oh, come on in dear, come on. Sherlocks been waiting for you." Mrs Hudson said, ushering me inside. I walked up the stairs, getting more nervous with every step. I knocked on the door to where Sherlock slept.

"Samantha, finally! What took you so long? Come on!" Sherlock beckoned me in. John was sitting in an armchair, next to a pretty blond girl. It was Chloe.

"I'm afraid I have some very bad news." She said gravely.

"What type of bad news? Life-or-death, or just not nice?" I was hoping for it to be the 'not nice' option.

"Life-or-death, Samantha."


	8. In Which The Cliffhanger Is Concluded

I frowned.

"What is it?"

Chloe looked sad.

"We can't save the people who have already eaten the school dinners. They will all already have the poison in their blood streams. What we can do is eradicate the poison from the rest of the food, but we'll have to shut down the school. After this many deaths and no arrests no-one will want to send their children there." She explained seriously.

I shook my head. They couldn't just stand by and let hundreds of innocent children die! They were her friends (sort of), her classmates. Even though most of them were bitches and bastards they didn't deserve to die. Not everyone.

"This... are you sure there is nothing you can do to- to stop this? Not even catch the person who did it?" I sank into a nearby armchair, breathing deeply and trying not to cry.

"There is nothing we can do. The damage has already been done. I can tell you now the villain behind all this had probably arranged a fake death, immigrated to another country under a totally different name and is living a relatively happy life somewhere. And he probably did it months ago." Sherlock wasn't making me feel better. If anything I was feeling worse. If the killer couldn't be caught then what had the point been of all these weeks of investigating? Had we been wasting our time, or was the villain still out there, close-by and vulnerable? I doubt it. He's probably done everything Sherlock mentioned and more.

Chloe looked sympathetic.

"We _are _going to close the school tomorrow to stop anyone else eating the school dinners; and we're going to give urgent medical treatment to everyone who have only-"

I jumped up.

"But that's not good enough! We needed to stop this straight away! Now hundreds of totally innocent, young and helpless _children_ are going to DIE! And there's absolutely _nothing _we can do about it. We're just going to sit here and talk about what will be done instead of _actually doing _anything! All you think about is logic, logic, logic, and now hundreds of children are going to die and we do NOTHING!" I screamed. Sherlock's face darkened. He looked at me, with an expression I could barely understand. Was it shame? Anger? Or disappointment?

Chloe looked down at her shoes, nervous of what to do. John sat rigid in his chair staring at Sherlock.

I sank back into the armchair, shaking. No-one said anything for a while.

"I better go home." I eventually said, standing up slowly and walking towards the door.

Sherlock nodded and Chloe smiled.

"I need to see you later. Meet me at the chinese in 3 hours." Sherlock said without looking up. I frowned but carried on out of the door.


	9. In Which Much Is Revealed

I stood outside the chinese in the freezing cold, waiting for Sherlock to arrive. It had occurred to me to go inside, but he probably was just meeting me here and going somewhere else, so it was easier if I stayed outside.

A taxi pulled up on the kerb outside the chinese and Sherlock got out. He was wearing a black-ish t-shirt with an un-done jacket over it. He also wore black trousers black boots. You could barely see him in the half light.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he walked towards me.

"You'll see when we get there." he said mysteriously; he walked off to the right and I jogged to keep up.

"Why couldn't we just met at wherever we're going?" I asked, frowning at him. Why was he being so secretive? Although to be honest it wasn't exactly un-usual.

"Because if someone wants to find out where we've gone it's harder to track us on foot." he explained, still walking as fast as I could only jog.

"OK... So where are we going?" I asked again. He still wasn't answering.

After about 15 minutes jogging/walking, we came to a small, obviously occupied house. Many of the lights were on and you could hear music playing from somewhere.

"This is the one." Sherlock muttered, yanking open the gate and walking up to the front door. He knocked on it twice.

After a few seconds the door was opened by a tall boy, aged about 15 or 16.

"Mum!" he yelled after he'd seen us in the doorway. He sauntered away as a 30 something woman ran down the stairs to the doorway. She took one look at Sherlock, one look at me (my face must have been a bit 'what the hell is going on?' because she frowned at me slightly) and instantly let us both in.

She led us through to the kitchen without saying a word.

"Zara-" began Sherlock, but he was cut off by the woman (Zara?)

"How can you do that? How can you disappear, not come back or even phone for 6 years, then suddenly appear on my front doorstep like it was perfectly normal?" she looked at Sherlock, anger and a hint of fear in her eyes.

"I... had to go. It was for your own safety, they would have come after you and tortured you until you told them where I was. I couldn't let that happen. To disappear and not tell you where I was going was the safest option I had. I didn't want to leave, but..." Sherlock trailed off, looking down at the table.

"The worst part of it was that you took Samantha." the woman whispered quietly, and I immediately knew this had something (or a lot) to do with me. I sat straighter in my chair.

"Who are you?" I asked boldly, staring her straight in the eyes.

"I thought you knew who I was? Surely Sherlock would have told you?" she looked imploringly at Sherlock, then realised that I did actually have absolutely no idea who she was.

"My name is Zara Sanders. I am not your genetic mother, but since she died Sherlock and I had been looking after you along with your older brother, Marcus. But then one day Sherlock disappeared. Without a trace. The police went looking for him but I knew they wouldn't find him. You know Sherlock; sly and brilliant at disguising himself. There was no way they could have found him if he didn't want to be found.

"At the time of his disappearance, Sherlock had been investigating a case. This time it was murder." she said, and took a breath to carry on, but I interrupted her.

"Who's murder?" I asked.

She took a deep breath.

"You're mother's." I looked at Sherlock sitting next to me.

"She was murdered?" I asked, looking across at Zara again. She nodded.

"She was murdered by a rival family. The grudge goes back at least 170 years. Ever since then the Holmes' and the Sanders have been slaughtering each other." she explained.

"But hang on a minute – you're a Sander and Sherlock's a Holmes. Why didn't you just kill each other? Or something like that?" I asked, puzzled.

"Me, Sherlock and Anna (your mother) didn't believe in the grudge thing. We think that the argument of our ancestors should never have been carried down the generations. So we decided to live together in defiance. Me, Sherlock and Anna. But the rest of our families got angry. We weren't supposed to be living together, let alone talking to each other. So the Sanders decided on a plan. They would murder Anna and see what effect it had on Sherlock. They believed that he would blame me for the attack and leave. But the Holmes also had a plan. They were going to kill me, so that it would just be Sherlock and Anna living here, which would be fine with everyone." she said.

"So what happened?" I asked, still very confused.

"The Sanders got there first. They murdered Anna and left without a trace. Sherlock, as you can imagine, was heartbroken. His wife, cruelly and horribly murdered for no reason. But he didn't blame me. He carried on living here. The Holmes had heard about what had happened, and decided not to kill me, but to make Sherlock move away. But there was still a very big problem for both of the families." she looked me in the eyes.

"What?" I asked. She sighed.

"It was you Samantha." Sherlock said.

**A/N : sorry I havent been updating for a very long time, but I just havent had the time. Really sorry, and if you do read this, I am begging you to review! Please, please. Thank you for reading I will try and update soon. XD enjoy! **


	10. In Which A Fate Is Decided

"They were scared of you Samantha. You are cleverer than you realise. Much cleverer. Ever wondered why you were so very bad at sports? Because you weren't built to do that. You were born because of one reason." she explained. I gulped, not wanting to ask the question I did next.

"What was the reason?" I asked.

"To obliterate the rivalry between the two families." she said. I relaxed. Can't be that bad?

"Well that's not that bad is it?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Each family is like a mini Mafia. If you work with both of them you'll be stuck in the middle of a three way war, with two angry families trying to kill you at every possible moment. Not a nice place to be. I've been there." she said. Already my brain was analysing her every move, telling me what she had been doing for the last few days. It might help. I doubted it.

"So... What do I do? When do I start?" I asked, totally unsure of what to do. She shrugged.

"It starts now. The battle began a few months ago. The two families had been dormant for a few years, but they're waking up. The plot with the school? That was the Sanders family trying to anger the Holmes and get rid of you all in one." she smiled. "They obviously didn't succeed."

"But they don't matter any more. The damage is done, we can't save them and there's a much bigger picture." this time it was my turn to sigh. "The bigger picture that all seems to revolve around me."

But why? I silently wondered inside my head. Why me?

Sherlock sat it silence, his black curls covering his eyes almost completely. I had never noticed before how much we look alike. We both have dark hair, although his is curly, and mine is straight. We both have the same curved upper lip, and both our eyes look cat-like, greeny-bluey coloured. If you looked closely we have the same sort of build, thin but strong, and we definitely look like father & daughter.

Sherlock's phone buzzed and he stood up, reading the text on the screen and frowning.

"We have to go." he said, and nodded at me. I stood up.

"Thank you." I said to her, and followed Sherlock out the door.


	11. In Which This Story Ends

**A / N : ****If I get enough positive feedback I will write a sequel, as I think this story has come to the point where I am happy with it, and don't wish to carry on. Thank you for commenting everyone, and I hope to write a sequel frankly because I love Samantha. I will be writing another Sherlock fanfic but without the OC this time. Hope you enjoyed the story :):):):)**


	12. NOTE  Please Read

My knew sequel to this is out – 'Samantha Returns' Check it out!

thanx for reading xxx


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